New Challenge: Title Track
Tolkien's titles range from epic to lyrical to metaphorical. This month's challenge selected 125 of them as prompts for fanworks.

As the Sons of Fëanor set their feet on the path to the sack of Doriath, Caranthir reflects on the characters of himself and his brothers and contemplates where the responsibility lies for their predicament.

In the end, the master of lies made the mistake of underestimating him.
A story of Celebrimbor, the last of the House of Fëanor in Middle-erath.

“Dior, son of Luthien,” Námo intones, “you do not belong in these halls. I will show you the way to where your path is meant to lead.”
Celegorm looks to Dior and tilts his head in curiosity at the defiant look being directed at Námo. “No,” Dior says, voice hard. “I feel no call to follow the path of men. I will stay in the halls with my kin.”
“I was not presenting it as a choice,” Námo says severely and Celegorm frowns. Sees Curufin across the room shaking his head and gesturing for Celegorm to join him. He thinks to but then looks at Dior again and gets distracted by the look on his face.
An animal backed into a corner, his mind supplies, glancing down at the way Dior’s fingers are beginning to press into Celegorm’s fëa from how hard he is gripping Celegorm’s wrist.
Dior bares his teeth. “I was not either."

Maedhros, eldest son of Feanor, is captured by Morgoth and chained to the cliffs of Thargorodrim by his order. There is no hope of rescue until his dearest friend appears. (one-shot)

They passed out of Lhûn and the wider coastline of Middle-earth opened up before his eyes. He had wandered those shores for centuries, and even now he felt the pull of that same wanderlust, and knew he would miss them for the rest of his life. Their wildness, the untamed waves, the rocky shores and the cliffs and the sandy beaches. The gulls, and the dunes, and the tide pools with their ever-changing denizens. Someone began to sing a song of farewell, and other voices took it up. He did not join them.
Maglor keeps a promise, and comes to Valinor, only to find the ghosts he thought he'd left behind are alive and waiting for him.

When Maedhros goes to parley with Morgoth’s army after Fëanáro’s death, Celebrimbor sneaks out to join him, and the consequences are dire.
Rated M for graphic violence (primarily torture). First three chapters were posted only on AO3 in 2024.

A collection of flashfic, drabbles, and snippets.

Completed.
"At least we have learned that the sons of Fëanor can die too." Nine POVs, one matter - a story about the kinslaying in Doriath.

Snippets of life of a midwinter in Fëanáro and Nerdanel's household in Valinor, during the Age of the Trees.
Prompts will be as follow, taken from the Midwinter Bingo card (board by AdmirableMonster) :
Family ; Carols and Singing ; Death and rebirth ; Candles ; Sledding
Promps taken from the Fluffy Bingo Card (board by DaughterofShadows):
Falling Asleep ; Hot Chocolate

It is Curufin who crafts the three gems. Starting with the one of fire.
Or: Curufin copes with grief in true Noldorin fashion.

This is a collection of true drabbles completed for the 'Four Words' drabble bingo card.

Created for the 'Geography/Maps/Places' prompt on the "Tolkien meta" bingo board, this is a collection of maps marked with the various people groups showing how they arrived and moved about Beleriand. This collection focuses specifically on the time from the arrival of the Teleri, Vanyar, and Noldor before they went to Aman up to the distribution of the various kingdoms after the Flight of the Noldor, when they arrived in Middle-earth and settled there.

An overview of the Sons of Fëanor and their role in Tolkien's Silmarillion writings

Blood wells to the surface, hot and sticky. It runs over Curufin’s hand and down Finrod’s neck, the smell almost overwhelming. Finrod thrashes when Curufin presses fabric against the wound with enough force that darkness dances along the edges of Finrod’s vision.
He is breathing harshly, and it sends pain lacing through him with every inhale, every exhale. His hands have found Curufin’s legs, his wrist, nails digging into fabric and soft skin.
Finrod would apologise, but he does not think that he has anything but curses and confessions within him.
Finrod gets hurt. Curufin does what he must.

His gaze, inevitably, is drawn back to Finrod, the marred beauty of him. It has not been Curufin who ruined him so—had not been Curufin who had dragged him out of Nargothrond and into the wolf’s den, who had let Finrod protect him with his life. And yet.
And yet it feels oddly fitting, that such a ruined thing should be Curufin’s.
Through careful manoeuvring and a few lucky coincidences, Curufin saves Finrod's life without having to admit to anything so humiliating as having emotions. Contrary to what one would expect, this does not make things all that much easier.
Alternatively: Curufin lies, Finrod lives, and somehow they do still manage to figure it out, for better or for worse.

Is is too much to ask for a day of peace?

After the disaster in Alqualondë, the house of Fëanor had stolen the ships and left by sea.
A storm was raging, and on a ship with at least one of his siblings, Tyelkormo was taking care of Huan... And thinking.

The firelight splays golden across them, and he listens to Curufin's breathing

Fics written for the "Tengwar" challenge.

For the Tengwar prompt challenge.
All 36 prompts plus bonus chapter

Someone is planting bombs in Minas Tirith.
Early in the Forth Age, when King Elessar's life is threatened, it is up to the young prince and an unlikely ally to bring down the threat to the realms of Men.
But in the chaos of a city rocked by violence, Prince Eldarion Telcontar will discover the true meaning of his inheritance.

Ficlets written for Feanorian Week